Some instances of writing I was happy to see today:

*     All the progress I'm making with indexing the book--a task I've never undertaken before.

*     The kind, nondramatic way the henna artist responded to my gentle breakup text: "it was nice meeting you...thats fiiiinee" (She was at the party yesterday, and I'd planned to have her at our Diwali party next week too, but her work was different from what I had in mind.)

*     The most perfect set of answers to a quiz about the British Romantics from a student in Gaza. They described "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" as "the quintessential romantic poem," which it certainly is. 

*     My seventh piece of handwritten mail urging me to vote. Some were postcards, this one was an actual letter. The Michigan vote will matter, and I guess it's making non-Michiganders anxious. (How I wish Harris-Walz had treated the folks from Uncommitted with more care and respect.)

*     A weird Lord of the Rings meme At sent me at 5:25 am in the morning... I'm not sure why, but it's from my lovey, and sure, I'll take it!

Pic: I inscribed a walking path amongst the falling leaves with my rake and Max engraved his own tracks too. 

this intercession

I wear today like a kingdom
though weary and rugged 
how many times can I speak 
about having grown

my memories into answers

and into prayers

begging for rain and reprieve

and reasons to remain

history doesn't have to betray

it can be a recipe

you've always meant to try 

...keep reading

overhead, birds circle in clouds

I map them in words

coax them to perch as guards

although tomorrow

they want to be in the parade

and have the last line

_________

Pic: It's so beautifully, unbelievably golden when I look up.

"exchanged"

"May she is not her daughter. Hospital exchanged" [unedited]

I got this text from my mom last night as I was getting ready for bed and I couldn't understand it. Sometimes when my mom types Hindi or Telugu words autocorrect changes them into English and really messes things up, so I have to guess at her texts sometimes--I'm used to that. But I showed this one to Big A because it was so strange, and he got it right away and I was SO impressed... he knows my mom and all her quirks so well! 

(I was trying to highlight my mom's quirks and couldn't decide whether to point out she likes the rapper Nelly or she likes to tease me or she loves to hear me sing or that she has the most unorthodox views of marriage and Hinduism or her pre-marriage days or her fighting days with my dad or how I feel my relationship with her was cloned in a novel after we'd had dinner with the novelist. Yes, I kind of went down a rabbit hole after I searched "mom" on my blog.)

Anyway, the background to that text is my mom's baby sister was widowed earlier this year, and although my aunt had wanted to live by herself, the family pressured her to live with her only child who appears to have put themselves on my aunt's bank accounts and then kicked her out. Big A interpreted my mom's text thus: "Athamma is saying your shitty cousin is not your aunt's real daughter, and that your aunt was given the wrong baby when she delivered at the hospital." I mean, what would it matter--my aunt had brought up my cousin, but yes, that is what my mom was saying. And my mom was so proud of A for figuring it out. 

Pic: This one made me cry. Max was hanging out outside and when I went to find him, he was curled up by Scout's memorial. He never met Scout, of course, but we do sound the wind chimes on our first trip outside every morning, perhaps that's why Max is feeling good vibes there? Or maybe (just maybe) Scout lingers there somehow? I swear--every morning, the tree-of-life solar lantern flickers when I sound the chimes... 

going on 17

Nu turns 17 tomorrow and they have plans with friends, so we had our family celebration today with pizza, cake, and presents. Nu rarely wants things, so we collaborated on a list of 70 songs about 17-year-olds that they loved. Steph, did something like this for North, I think? We weeded out the more letchy ones (there are so many songs about adult men checking out 17-year-old girls!) and tried to find songs that described being 17. The top ones: "Seventeen without a purpose or direction, we don't owe anyone a fucking explanation" (The Rock Show, Blink-182); "You won't be seventeen forever and we can get away with this tonight" (Seventeen Forever, Metro Station); "Pack me up and put me in a time machine, so I can remember when we were seventeen" (Seventeen, Four Year Strong). There are so many songs about being 17, and Nu thinks it has something to do with the number of syllables in "seventeen," rather than the age itself. Also: The grandparents sent gift cards and cash, this Pack Rat puppet who carries a knapsack might be their new purse, they have a new speaker for their room, and a snack box from Japan. 

Big A is working tonight, so he headed to bed after dinner while the kids and I headed out to see The Substance. It was a bit heavy-handed and the body horror was extreme enough to make me want to retch--but the kids thought it was all hilarious. What on earth have I wrought?! 

After we dropped At off, Nu started to play Imogen Heap on the car stereo. I don't even know how Nu found this music that's now nearly 20 years old... I internally debated whether I should tell them that I had always thought of "Goodnight and Go" as my song for A (not the stalker-y bits, but the "must you make me laugh so much" section and also the oops missed the train home part). I ended up telling them, and then they earnestly asked me if I would be okay "sharing" the song with them. I guess the kids are alright after all. 

(Whom am I kidding? I love my little humans to bits... I can't believe this may be Nu's last birthday at home.)

Pic: Nu's delicious (pumpkin cheese)cake looks like it has a hundred candles because there are candles spelling out "Happy Birthday" in addition to their 17 candles.

coming back around

Friends and family in the path of Hurricane Milton are beginning to "mark" themselves safe; I hope that continues. For right now, it feels lovely to be back home where everything is normal and human-sized (as opposed to thousands of feet tall or deep à la Arches and Canyonlands). 

And on my first full day back, these four beautiful encounters felt like blessings.

1) When I went to pick up the holy basil (Tulsi) plant from the people selling it, they turned out to be a South Indian mother-daughter pair who were so, so nice. The daughter was relocating to the U.K. and when I told them that I had done my doctorate in the U.K., she turned out to be an Oxford Alumna too. At that point, they--naturally--invited me to come in and have "coffee and tiffin." 

2) Although it was mostly an intro to their online tech and learning platform (Moodle), there was a sense of solidarity at the Zoom meeting for the volunteer Gaza instructors. (The initiative is led by Lille University in France and hosted by AnNajah University in Palestine.) I gulped when the admin said it would be good to record lectures because students may not have internet access or electricity at class meeting times. Most of the other instructors were men, so when I spotted someone who appeared to be a woman, I Facebook-friended them like it was 2006. Then KK and I had a heartfelt exchange about why we were doing this and swore comradeship. 

3) Finally, and for no reason I can think of, my masseuse AM decided to gift me today's massage. First I demurred, then I refused outright... but she shut me down by saying she knew I would respect her decision. This feels too, too much--massaging is strenuous work and a whole hour out of her workday is too generous. When I asked her, she merely smiled and said, "What goes around comes around." Which is inscrutable but fair, I guess. But she doesn't know much about me and I really haven't ever done anything special for her. (Although I clearly need to now. Ideas welcome.)

4) Pic: It's late in the year, but I think this is a fritillary? They were just soaking up the sunshine and doing that thing where they open and close their wings--as though in pure pleasure. I kind of felt like that myself at odd moments during the day. 

"punched a shark"

When a student asked me what had happened to my finger (Big A splinted it) and I started my boring story about the vacuuming, they suggested I just tell people that I "punched a shark." It's all well for them, they're from California, and where am I gonna find a shark in Michigan, but it's a cute idea :). 

My Spring term travel course to England is slightly over-enrolled, but I'm going to roll with that. I'm excited to start making arrangements... but my first task will be to update the Spotify playlist for the course. 

Also, what's happening in the world?! I took the weekend off for a sanity pause and we're basically on the brink of WWIII and my feed is full of apocalyptic images of flooding in Appalachia. I can't swim, so my empathy and horror are practically visceral. This world-life balance is an abyss, really.

Pic: I'm still in my work clothes, Max is curled into my side, Huck really thinks I'm going to play with their drooly toy, I set my passport down for a sec to take this pic... I was about to take a picture of my passport to send to my sis who is planning a trip for us in December. Everything will be better by December, right?

the making of things

"What is it like to eat an idea or its suggestion?"

It is the end of September     I feel the emptiness of the memories I forgot    but it's hardly a war     the heat is merely that of a kitchen    and I am fifteen and waiting   to transform ingredients into happiness     to make meaning with sweet triumph    I imagine my throne made with spoonsful of sugar   mean to spin jalebis airy as as asemic wishes     instead what I've made   clings to me like tears    my dad tells me    it's wonderful, it's wonderful     it really is wonderful, he says     but jalebis are proud as royal signatures      and what I have in the pan are droppings of batter     dad's hand lifts my chin   his other hand sketches in the air   name your dish after you make it, he tells me    he peers at the pan again    don't you see?    what you've made are the best "jalebi balls" I've ever seen    this is truly the best cooking advice        I will ever be given    to say what a thing is after it is done   the best writing advice        the best advice really

_________

Note: The quote is from RPT MC-60 00.27 8 by Tan Lin a poem about Wiley Dufresne's restaurant WD-50. We ate there once maybe 20 years ago? It seemed like a very New York thing to do at the time. (We used to go to fancy restaurants for lunch because the menu tends to be less expensive at lunch than at dinner.)

Pic: Across the fence, our neighbor's woods. 

Welcoming a little bean!

The baby shower today was woodland-themed, so it was supposed to be outside in our unkempt backyard, but despite my most frantic monitoring of the weather app, the forecast continued to call for rain, so I had to move the party indoors. 

Ah well. At least I didn't have to clean (our indoors tends to be fairly tidy), or set up outdoor tables, and could possibly get away with fewer decorations since the space was smaller (I guess I am a bit Pollyanna-ish sometimes). 

It went well. I'm so honored that I get to be part of the Ls's chosen family and do this for them and I just can't wait to meet their little bean!

While we were playing "Mommy or Daddy?" (the game where you guess which parent would change more diapers, take more photos etc. ) Big A and I did a quick retrospective check on our own days as young parents. We agreed on everything. (We're so weird.) We saved a few of the game forms for the next family dinner night to see if the kids can guess right.

Pic: Huck explores under the table as guests arrive. The fruit salad nestled in the watermelon pram with the pineapple wheels (made by the dad-to-be) was my favorite thing!

And on we go...

As Alice Walker says: "The way forward is with a broken heart..."

I woke up early to spend some quality time walking with Max and Huckie and being silly with Big A, and went in to work a little later (it's not a teaching day). I also prepped dinner as I'd be home at 6 and that's too late to start prepping. That extra time I took for myself in the morning was so good for me. I saw a little red Corvette on the way to work and got there on a song. 

(Not to jinx it, but) My class prep is always meticulous, so yesterday's teaching went fine, but there were other things I had been too distracted to do in the last couple of days (make arrangements to observe a colleague's class for their portfolio, finalize calendar invites for a couple of work meetings, materials for the prison class, materials for the Gaza University folks, progress surveys for all my classes, etc.). I did all of that today. And I wrote the Dems about the death penalty.

And I focused on some life-affirming stuff: Wished my cousin T for their birthday, designed the invite for our Diwali gathering (Nov 2), and ordered the cupcakes for the baby shower (this Saturday!). 

Pic: While at the bakery for the baby shower cupcakes, I picked up these adorable cutout cookies for Nu. I could hear my mom's voice in my head--"First take care of the ones at home."

affective vs. relational

When I was sitting with JG at her synagogue yesterday catching up on weeks of news and gossip, we--naturally--started chatting about the election. She's an expert in communication, so she was telling me that while phone banks, yard signs, and postcard campaigns have "affective" worth in that they make the people who participate in them feel good, they don't really convince other people. The only thing that convinces other people and might change votes is reaching out to people in our networks--using our "relational" connection is the only way to persuade people to vote for good. 

Now that we're here. The thought of a Trump presidency terrifies me for all the obvious reasons. And I'm now worried about the possibility of large-scale electoral college swindles. And also, the daily psychic exhaustion of the ongoing genocide in Gaza is immense. At this point, in less than a year, over 350,000 people have died in horrifying and preventable circumstances. The excuse people make for other genocides--"but I didn't know"--doesn't work here. We can look away, but we cannot dare say we didn't know. 350,000 people. This is not normal. This is not a natural disaster we couldn't prevent; on the contrary, we have participated in and precipitated this by sending the bombs that killed these people. Most of us don't want to and yet, despite being a democracy, our government continues to defy us. Which is connected to why I'm not thrilled that that Fucking Dick--Cheney is ostensibly on the same side as me. How is his endorsement a good thing? Who's next? Pol Pot?

Anyway... Deep breath.

Pic: This blurry pic from, as FB reminds me, 16 years ago gets me every time. Big A is home after a 24-hour residency shift at Bellevue and is still in his hospital scrubs so he's not touching the baby--but Nu's delight in their dada is clearly reflected in their shiny eyes, toothless smile, and squishy dancing arms. 

at five in the evening

and under a dulled sky 

grows a grave privilege

I'm  sorry for my grief--

it is a wound I worry 

but also such a wonder

a life made from memory

here's the real, and there

the merely remembered

you  tell  me which

it  is...  I'll  confess 

I  mix  and  mistake

them all the time--even

 dream that some evening 

soon  it  will be spring 

and I will be kneeling

down singing and you 

will be close to me (even 

if you don't like my song)

__________

Pic: A bluejay in the front yard. 

Also: And this is freaky--at the end of that week where I had that dream which I worried meant something about my father's time on earth, I got word that my father's older brother passed away. My sister is attending his funeral tomorrow as our family's representative. My sis really does more than her fair share of family stuff because she's awesome. (Plus she's right there.) I have to say though that I felt a pang when I saw the cute invitations that had been sent out for the pooja my mom and sis just hosted--the shortened versions of their names even rhyme ("Manu and Anu")!

home stuff and homecoming

There's still a bit of summer lingering in the possibility of peaches for a snack, in the lure of the hammock in the afternoons, and yet the mornings are delicious in their cool and misty promise of fall. 

I will have a ton of essays turned in this weekend and need to turn to grading mode soon, so I did all the household stuff today-- watering my zillion plants and cleaning all three floors. I also did the laundry that had accumulated for over 6-8 weeks. I have decades of clothes in my closet but I know my clothes will continue to last me longer if they get cleaned and put away. (I'm trying to talk myself into doing it. I don't like doing laundry although I try to entice myself by scenting everything with lavender essential oil and watching old shows as I fold and put everything away.) Also, and this is new for me, I hand-sawed a pile of kindling to use in the firepit come fall. 

Pic: Nu headed out to homecoming--they spent a lot of time putting their outfit together and I love the detail down to the socks. I have to say, Nu is the cheapest thriftiest teen I know. I remember having to rush to department stores every time At went to an HS social. Nu did not want to shop for the event and sourced everything from their closet and At's old closet. At was homecoming royalty, so Nu had some good material to swipe.

But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?

At around 3 this morning, I looked out of the window and there was an absolutely beautiful moon... I asked Big A if he'd go on a walk with me, he said sure, so we headed downstairs, Max and Huckie joined us, and then we all walked around in the moonlight for a while... It was calm and sublime and somehow something I needed.

(Written out like that it sounds a bit odd. I often wonder if Big A and I are perfect for each other or atrocious for each other... we so rarely try to talk each other out of our (no doubt sometimes bad) ideas... we're really like some dumb Pisces-Scorpio astrology writeup come to life.)

In other news, my application to teach an eight-week online course for students in Gaza has been accepted! Also: our idealistic (and now, sadly, outgoing) college president has started up a prison education initiative, and I'll get a chance to teach in a local prison again (I did something like this long ago in grad school). I am so happy to be participating in both of these programs. I mean, I wish there wasn't an ongoing epistemicide in Gaza and that we didn't have a carceral state stateside, but those things are happening anyway, and now I get to help out in a role I love.

Pic: I learned how to stop my phone from using its automatic flash, and got an okay picture of the moon! I learned today is a supermoon... 

colorless green idea

The more things change... the more they are changed, I guess? 

Pictures of me passed out with puppies on top aren't new... but this one with Max in the crook of my knees reminded me so much of the last one Big A took before we knew Scout was sick... mostly because of the way *I* am sleeping so furiously. 

Noam Chomsky (in his pre-political activist 1950s avatar as a serious linguist) constructed a sentence I've always loved. He gives us "Colorless green ideas sleep furiously"  as an example of an utterance that makes sense grammatically but is semantically nonsensical. Really? I think I might be a colorless green idea... I sleep so furiously!

In other news, Nu seems recovered from their cold and has really been riding their new name high. It seems they're exempt from all chores and duties and get to pick dinner every day this week? "It's a once in a lifetime occasion," I was told cheerfully :). Fair enough. Also, we gave Nu presents yesterday--it's a birth-day, kinda? And we got to thinking how we don't give babies presents when they're born--it's more like here's a fresh diaper, if you make it to a year, we'll throw you a party then... Rude!

A Nu Name!

Nu's baby name has stayed the same, but their formal name change became legal today! We've been using their new formal name for a few years now, and it suits them so well, so I didn't think I'd get emotional at the court hearing... but of course I did.

It was such a relief to have everything go so smoothly, and it was such a blessing to have the entire experience with our courts--from the filing clerk all the way to the judge--be so respectful, supportive, and affirming. 

The judge took the time to compliment Nu, find out how to correctly pronounce their Sanskrit name, remark upon their smile... They also exempted us from having to publish the name change and sealed the documents as a measure of protection and support for an underage child living out their authentic life. I am so grateful for these kindnesses--I know too many parents from states like Texas and Florida who basically have had to flee as their kids were in danger from the anti-trans laws that have gone into effect over the last couple of years. I wish our experience were more universal.

Nu was sick today and stayed home from school. I kept them fortified with gingery lemon soup, honey tea, and banana muffins (the last item by request). We'll celebrate with a proper celebratory dinner and cake (with our At!) on Wednesday. 

Pic: Nu with Big A at our Zoom court hearing.

building a mystery

1) It's no mystery that I love Jennifer Finney Boylan, I've basically fangirled since I met her in 2011. I don't know though, why I waited so long to read her collab with Jodi Picoult--Mad Honey. For the last couple of days I've been waiting to finish all my million persnickety multiplying duties so I could sit down with my book. Just finished it today, and there were so many parts that brought me to tears and so many twists I didn't see coming and so many parts I just had to reread. It was so good. 

2) I was in a mad panic yesterday because I had written up a paper proposal about the Jhumpa Lahiri collection, Roman Stories, but couldn't find it in my email or the Google doc I'd been working on with some colleagues on another proposal. I finally found the huffy title I'd used ("Tell Me Where it Hurts: Ailment and Alienation in Jhumpa Lahiri’s Roman Stories"), by using Google History, and after over an hour of searching every doc I had opened in March, I finally found the notes I made. Back to the drawing board, I guess.

3) I got brave today and went looking for the snake I saw three weeks ago. I wore long boots, made a lot of noise, and was on high alert. But Mx. Slithers seems to have disappeared just as mysteriously as they appeared. I'd read that snakes don't like strong smells, so I took some old packets of curry powder and scattered them in that part of the garden, hoping to scare them away forever.

4) Pic: Huck, Max, Big A, and I out on our post-dinner walk... It's a mystery why our fluffy doodles think they can take on our neighbor's muscular German Shepherd, but they always do their version of trash talk as we pass. 

no stranger world

what if the the days 
called us to 
                                            speak to the strangers 
                                            seek them out
they who have much 
to share of the dark and day 
                                            whose names are conversations
                                             whose hellos are history 
when the voiceover

of memory 

                                            is the scream of a dark dagger 
                                            but sometimes lilts to tomorrow 
saying me saying me
saving me saving me
                                            for it may be as hard to get into a world 
                                            as it is to get out of it 
I too was a stranger once 
how strange that was                                
                                              let it be
                                              let me be

______

Pic: In the woods out front in the evening light. I've been thinking a lot about the way refugees are being described in this moment--partly because we used to live in Yellow Springs (Big A's old hometown), which is close to Springfield, OH... in fact, Big A was born in a Springfield hospital! Also, Haiti itself is both inspiring as the first country to win independence from slavery, but tragic for the way France has tethered it to poverty in retaliation. And I love the stoics and more recently, Martha Nussbaum's interpretation of cosmopolitanism as "bringing the stranger in." I would find it wonderful to live in a world where there were no "strangers."

flickers from other places...

Max is a goofball whereas Scout was a sentimental intellectual-savant, but they do look a lot alike and have some very similar habits. Like Scout, Max loves to be with me when I light the oil lamps in the evening, and sighs the same way Scout did when he settles himself for a nap across my legs, he even plays catch in the same silly way. 

Every morning when we wake up, the first thing Max and I do is go out to the corner where we made a Scout memorial. I ring the wind chimes, while Max (less sentimentally) pees. The other day I was playing catch with Max and he came around the corner just as Scout used to and as I mussed his ears and face, the solar lantern flickered awake although it was not at all close to darkness. It truly felt like Scout was laughing in the moment alongside us. 

*

I woke up from an intense dream last night in which my dad was asking why I hadn't placed a "pottu" on him. For the most part, this is a benign request--you'd place a pottu (the vermillion mark) as a blessing; I put one on myself every time I leave the house, or on the kids when they join me in meditation. But in Tamil slang, "putting a pottu on someone" can signify they have passed away and you're paying your respects to their portrait by putting a pottu on it. So obviously, I woke up dreading the day. Thankfully, it turns out I have no prophetic qualities, and the day passed uneventfully.

*

We had our annual Ganesha seek-and-find today (postponed from Friday). The kids found all 32 Ganeshas, showered them with rosewater, anointed them with turmeric and vermillion, and decorated them with flowers. I translated some Sanskrit slokas for them to enjoy, and they insisted on singing "Happy Birthday" in English as well. They heard about our adventure from yesterday, had so many follow-up questions, and were suitably celebratory not to wake up as orphans today.

Pic: The fam at brunch... Big A, Max, At, and Nu with Huckie underfoot. (I'm trying so hard to ignore the giant pile of napkins waiting to be folded behind A.)

the things they gave me

As we walk, Big A says he would give anything to be wrong... unlearn everything... wishes he could promise me that there was heaven and I would of course be with Scout again someday. Then we got home after grabbing my Boss Day to-go order from the sushi place and then I had all my babies--Max and Huck and Nu and At around me. It wasn't quite heaven, but contentment enough. 

Later in the evening, as I gathered the mint growing in wild abandon, I remembered Medo Halimy telling the world that he plants as a form of resistance. "They take away life... I bring life to earth," he said as he planted around his tent in Gaza and celebrated each sprig and sprout. This beautiful, lovable person dead at just 19, is yet another young person who has taught me so much. Whether or not I dedicate anything to him formally, his spirit and optimism will echo in my head whenever I tend to my plants. 

Pic: Late evening light at the garden gate. 

my calendar is a landscape

my feet are rooted in the ground

my face is in tears 

up at your second-story window 

in the harsh delight of half-light 

my gaze falls halfway 

dry like my breath on your neck 

eager as flame flirting with a book 

inside which everyone 

you thought you loved might live

tell me when it's time to begin 

the burning of July 

so we can take August with us too

________________________

Pic: Recuperating in the hammock (I'm feeling so much better). Someday I want to get a picture of geese heading out in a "V." (Just putting it out there to the universe.)